


Declarations

by MrDracoPotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Baker Harry Potter, Bisexual Harry Potter, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Draco Malfoy, M/M, Musician Draco Malfoy, POC Harry Potter, Slow Burn, house arrest, parole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrDracoPotter/pseuds/MrDracoPotter
Summary: When Draco Malfoy gets a sentence of house arrest and parole, Harry Potter volunteers himself for the job. It was the right thing to do... right? Draco has changed a lot from their school days, which doesn't go unnoticed by Harry. Living together may just bring them closer together than they ever would have guessed. Through baking, house renovations, music and more, their relationship grows.(There will be warnings before any graphic scenes start if you want to read but don't want to see those parts)





	Declarations

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. This work was written before and posted, but I didn't like it, so I rewrote it. I think this one will turn out better. I haven't written far yet, but I feel like this will be longer than my works from the past. I hope you enjoy.

_ We found the accused...guilty of all charges. We have also, however, come to the conclusion that Azkaban will be of no use, so we have decided the sentence of Mr. Malfoy shall be house arrest with constant supervision of a parole auror. We will review the case in a year’s time to see the progress of Mr. Malfoy and decide whether an extension of sentence shall be granted. Until then, court is adjourned. _

 

As everyone moved to file out of the court, Harry remained seated. His knee jumped up and down repeatedly. Malfoy sat in the chair centered in the middle of the courtroom. They wouldn’t allow him to stand and leave until everyone else has gone. All Harry could see was his blonde head of hair. He wouldn’t look up from staring at his feet. His hair was longer than it had ever been. There was no time to cut it during the war and the events that followed. Harry’s schedule had been filled with post war celebrations and future plans now that they didn’t have an evil Dark Lord looming over everyone’s heads. Malfoy, however, didn’t have time to celebrate. His time was spent in Azkaban and court hearings. 

 

During the trial, Harry tried to help. He spoke up for both him and his mother, telling the courts that they had both saved his life. Malfoy was too young to pay for something he had no choice in. Apparently, it didn’t help.  _ House arrest _ . For a year, no less; maybe even longer. If the courts were as brutal as they were now, it would be extended when the year was up. Everyone seemed to feel that revenge and harsh punishment was the way to go to properly end the war. No matter how much Harry said otherwise, they still wanted to crack down on all who participated on the dark side. Harry should have figured no one would learn from the last war. 

 

He wouldn’t make the same mistakes. No, he would make a difference. That’s why he was about to do something he never would’ve done before. Volunteer to become the parole auror for Draco Malfoy. He must’ve lost his mind. 

 

Once everyone else was gone, Harry began to descend the steps. The Wizengamot had remained to make their final decisions on Malfoy’s placement. Harry hoped they would listen to his reasoning. 

 

When he arrived at the bottom of the steps, he took hesitant steps forward until he was in view of everyone in the room. He purposely avoided Malfoy’s gaze. It wouldn’t help his case for Malfoy to give him one of those sneers he’s so good at. 

 

“Mr. Potter,” the Chief Warlock, an aging man with white, wispy hair said. “Is there something you need?” Harry only knew this man for the duration of the death eater trials, which had been going on for a little more than two months. Despite this, he knew how to get what he wanted from him. The Chief Warlock (Harry never did learn his name) liked to be the best in the room. He looked down on the criminals he judged like they were scum on the bottom of his trainers. Harry made a mental note to talk to Kingsley about replacing him while they work through their Ministry reforms. 

 

“Chief Warlock, I know you’re busy with all the good work you’ve been doing, so I thought I could help lighten the load a little. We need you at your best, as always, and taking care of this will just burden you. I’d be more than willing to supervise the accused sir,” Harry said. He had also learned that the Warlock didn’t refer to the people on trial by name, and didn’t take kindly to those who did. 

 

The Warlock considered Harry for a moment, then said, “Very well. I do have more important matters to attend to.” Just as expected, he didn’t ask any questions. Malfoy could be placed with a serial killer and the Chief wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Obviously, Harry wasn’t a serial killer, but still. 

 

A woman strode up to him carrying a small stack of parchment. She instructed him to sign here, initial there, print his name, and then sign there. She went on to explain all the specifics of being a parole auror. Malfoy was to stay in the house, unless accompanied by him, if Harry needed to go alone, say for work, then he was to set up wards to prevent Malfoy from leaving, he was allowed a wand but it needed to be monitored and some spells were to be restricted etc.  Soon, Malfoy was being released under Harry’s care. 

 

A year living with Malfoy. What could go wrong?

  
  


As they made their way out of the courtrooms, Harry glanced at his watch. 12:58. He still had a few hours of work to do. Peeking at Malfoy from the corner of his eyes, he didn’t see much more than what he saw in the courtroom: blonde hair. 

 

“Er,” Harry spoke up. Malfoy didn’t look at him, his gaze remaining on the floor. “I still have work to do, so would it be alright for you to sit in my office while I finish some paperwork?”

 

Malfoy’s steps hitched slightly, but other than that he didn’t answer. Harry shrugged and counted it as a yes.  _ It wasn’t like he had a choice, anyways _ , he thought regretfully. If only they had done something before the war encompassed them. They could’ve helped him. It would have been better. He wouldn’t have to look after Malfoy for a year. 

 

The walk down the narrow corridors was long in the tense silence. When the elevators came into his sight, Harry let out a grateful breath. Soon, he would be so immersed with his work he wouldn’t even know Malfoy was there. 

 

How wrong he was. With Malfoy in the room, a three year old’s attention span would be better than his. He was drawn to everything Malfoy did. The strangest thing was: Malfoy didn’t do anything. As they walked through the auror floor, people threw dirty looks from every direction. Still, Malfoy kept his steady gaze on the ground in front of his feet. Once they reached Harry’s office, Malfoy sat and stared at the ground. Harry wondered what was so interesting about the faded design of the carpet. 

 

An hour in, Harry realized he wasn’t going to get any work done. Not with Malfoy doing…  _ that _ . He arranged everything in order on his desk. When everything was where it was supposed to be, Harry stood. Malfoy didn’t move in the slightest. 

 

Harry coughed to alert Malfoy and said, “Er, I think we should be getting…” What should he call it? Home? “I think we should be going now.” Malfoy finally looked up and nodded slightly. He looked different - skinnier, paler, tired. Everything seemed to have changed but his eyes. His eyes were still stormy grey and they pierced through Harry, making his breath hitch. Just as suddenly as their eyes met, Malfoy looked down once more. He stood and waited for Harry to lead the way. 

 

Harry opened the door and gestured for Malfoy to go first, following closely behind. They made their way back through the auror floor. Again, Harry and Malfoy ignored the dirty and disbelieving looks that were shot their way. Well, Harry ignored them. Malfoy didn’t even see them. They went down the elevators to the atrium, where the floos were. 

 

On the way, Harry decided to explain everything to Malfoy. He started with where they’d be staying: “So, I live in Grimmauld Place. I’m not sure if you’ve ever been - it used to be the Black residence. I don’t know if your mom ever took you…” Harry trailed off. 

 

“Anyways, I haven’t had much time to clean up, so it’s a little musty. There’s a lot of artifacts and whatnot that I need to get rid of. Oh, I almost forgot there’s a portrait of Sirius’ mom, Walbura Black, that screams if you make noise around her. I mean, I don’t know if she’ll scream around you. She doesn’t like me, half-blood and all that,” Malfoy looked up and raised an eyebrow at Harry’s ramblings. Harry tried not to be too glad he got  _ some  _ reaction from Malfoy. 

 

“I have a house elf, but I sent him to help at Hogwarts for a while. Er… I think that’s basically everything. It’s all pretty simple,” Malfoy snorted. “Well, not the situation, I suppose,” Harry added, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 

 

The elevator door opened and they stepped out. This time, Harry took the lead and walked to the first available floo. 

 

“Grimmauld Place,” Harry stated. Malfoy looked up at him with wide eyes. “Is something wrong?” Harry asked. Malfoy’s gaze shot down to the ground once more. 

 

“Do you not like to travel by floo powder?” Harry asked confusedly. He had assumed Malfoy had used it countless of times before, given his heritage. Malfoy’s annoyed gaze met Harry’s, so Harry asked, “What? What’s wrong with the floo?” After an exaggerated eyeroll, Malfoy swiped his hand in front of his throat. Harry realized in that moment that Malfoy hasn’t spoken a single word all day. 

 

“Can you… talk?” Harry asked and Malfoy shook his head. Harry shook his head in disbelief. There were rumors of this. A modification was made to the silencing spell so it could be used to silence a single person. Harry hoped it was just that - a rumor - but apparently it wasn’t. Thankfully, Harry had also heard a counterspell in those rumors. 

 

He brought his wand out and pointed it towards Malfoy. Ignoring his slight flinch he cast, “Bruit recomme.” Malfoy grabbed his throat.

 

“Alright?” Harry checked. 

 

Malfoy nodded and said, “Alright.” His usual smooth drawl was now croaky from misuse. Harry tilted his head towards the floo and Malfoy stepped in. “Grimmauld Place,” he said clearly, despite his raspy voice. After he disappeared, Harry did the same. 

 

Stepping out, the first thing Harry saw Malfoy standing in the kitchen, looking around with a blank expression. Harry got the feeling that Malfoy was trying to hide something from him. He shook his head to rid him of that thought. Malfoy didn’t always have to be keeping something from him. 

“So, this is the kitchen. It’s probably the most used room in the house. I tend to bake a lot,” Harry found himself rambling to fill in any awkward silences. He lead the way throughout the multiple floors of the house. Random tidbits were thrown in to keep away the quiet. Malfoy didn’t seem to notice or care. He just followed Harry as he around, pointing out the different rooms. 

 

Once they reached the second floor, Harry stopped the tour. He hadn’t went up any further since he came there shortly after the end of the war. It didn’t seem right to disturb rooms that once housed people who were now dead. Instead, he stayed in the room he used to share with Ron. In the short time he knew Malfoy would be staying with him, he decided he would stay in the second bedroom on the same floor. 

 

“This will be your room,” Harry said, gesturing to the room at the end of the hall. “My room is right down here… if you need anything. Feel free to move stuff around and whatnot. I went through most of the house with cleaning spells, so it should be alright in that department,” He was rambling again. Malfoy gave a slight nod. 

 

Harry backed away slowly and said, “Well, early morning tomorrow, so…” He trailed off and arrived at his door. Slipping inside, he breathed a sigh of relief. Of all the things he could’ve expected, awkwardness was not one of them. As much as he hated to admit, he missed Malfoy’s snarky comments. At least, it brought something different to the conversation. Harry didn’t have to be the polite, nice  _ savior _ around Malfoy. Mostly because Malfoy would call bullshit from a mile away. But now, it didn’t seem to be the same. He vaguely wondered if it ever could be. 

 

 

The next day, Harry was getting ready for work silently thanking Merlin Ron had quit being an auror. Instead, he was working at the shop with George. It gave Ron a reason to be around George to make sure he was okay. Plus, being auror didn’t suit Ron so well. They always joked about going from fighting one bad guy to the next. Harry guessed it got to be too much. Sometimes it was too much for Harry himself, but he stuck it out. He was meant to be an auror, fighting against the “dark side.” He couldn’t imagine what he else he would do. 

 

Either way, it was a nice blessing Ron didn’t work with him anymore. It was hard to say how Ron would react to the whole Malfoy situation. On one hand, the war was over and they were moving on. On the other hand… well, let’s just say that Harry wouldn’t want to see Malfoy and Ron in the same room together for a while. The only people who knew about Malfoy was him and the the Wizengamot. That meant the story wouldn’t get out after a couple of days. He wanted to tell everyone personally (rather than them finding out from the Prophet). Before the story hit, however, he would enjoy the grace period. He preferred it when people didn’t call him ridiculous or something along those lines. He’s gotten plenty of that in his lifetime. 

 

Every time an apparent “scandal” broke out, there was that one group of people who always jumped on the “Let’s hate Harry Potter,” train. In his school years, it was because of Voldemort and the Ministry. After the war, it was because he wanted to completely reform the Ministry. Then, it was him being caught snogging a muggle man. That one still failed to make sense. At that point, he and Ginny had had a mutual split and he had come out as bisexual. In hindsight, media has never been able to fully grasp the concept of bisexuality. Even now, they still either called him straight or gay. He would never understand what was so difficult to understand about liking two genders. 

 

Now, he was going to get shit for becoming Malfoy’s parole auror. That wasn’t something he was looking forward to. There will be the ones who think Harry is in danger. Then, there will be the ones who turn against him for “fraternizing with the enemy.”  _ Mental note to self: Strengthen your wards, _ Harry thought to himself. Some extremists always tried to find any way to get to him when a big story broke out. 

 

It was important to keep them up now for Malfoy. There was a lot of people who wanted revenge for loved ones who had fallen in the war. Harry wouldn’t be home often due to his job; it was his responsibility to keep Malfoy safe. Even though no one would bat an eye if Malfoy were to get hurt. He needed to talk to Kingsley about that today. There was so much left to do for the Ministry. 

 

Just as Harry was slipping on his auror robes, a hummingbird patronus appeared in his room - Head Auror Baggins. 

 

“You’ve been assigned a new case. Apparate straight to the Belfer residence in Cambridge,” the patronus said before disappearing in the air. Harry sighed. The Belfer’s were a pureblood family that had come back to England after the fall of Voldemort. They left after the beginning of the first war. According to them, they wanted to stay off the radar of the dark side. When Voldemort fell, they stayed away. It was too good to be true for them. Of course, they were proved right. After the second war, when they knew Voldemort was gone for good, they came back. 

 

Harry understood the appeal of leaving war. It was brutal and filled with destruction. He couldn’t help but have a few negative feelings about it. Although he wouldn’t openly admit it, most of those feelings stemmed from envy. It must’ve been great to not have to go through such a terrible ordeal. He couldn’t help the feeling of resentment that came when he thought of people who left the war behind so easily. They had nothing to prove, no one they had to save. 

 

**(TW: Murder, blood)** But for the Belfer’s case, it seemed they didn’t escape violence completely. He was called in for the murder of Mrs. and Mr. Belfer. Their two children were on vacation in Mexico and discovered their bodies early this morning. He was immediately met with the lovely sight when he apparated to the grounds. 

 

It appeared the subject didn’t favor the killing curse; the victims had bled out. Their wrists were slit open along with their necks. The murderer also stabbed both of them in the chest multiple times. It was overkill. Definitely not a sight their children should have seen. It was truly terrible what the bad people of the world would do. Some of their blood was used to write a message on the wall. It said:  _ You can’t escape us.  _ **(End of TW)**

 

Although it wasn’t pretty, it seemed like it was going to be one of the easier cases. People who worked for the dark side in the war wanted revenge on those who fled. Somehow, it helped them deal with their anger over losing the war. Harry never understood the twisted logic. To him, it was all a facade. Murderers were murderers - they used any excuse to satisfy their urges. 

 

After the war, the Ministry tried their best to apprehend the death eaters from the war. Some were caught, some were unfairly punished, and some were never seen or heard from again. Until something like this happened. Since their original round up of dark side supporters, they’ve had an uprising in murders. About three quarters of those murders were unveiled to be at the hands of former death eaters and other supporters. The war never did end. There was always someone else he had to stop. 

 

Unsurprisingly, when he tested the magical signature left behind at the crime scene, it matched a wanted fugitive. His name was Thomas Leroy. He had been a supporter of Voldemort in the second war. Although it wasn’t proven that he had the dark mark, Harry wouldn’t be surprised if he did. He was one of those who worked in the ministry after the dark side took it over. From what the Order gathered at the time, he worked closely with Umbridge. 

 

Harry remembered him. During his training, Head Auror Baggins had him watch the subject interviews he conducted. Thomas Leroy’s interview was the first of many interviews Harry saw the first day. In the end they had to let him go. There wasn’t enough evidence, especially because Leroy didn’t have the mark. The rage Harry felt over guilty people getting away on technicalities, while people like Malfoy paid harsher sentences than deserved, was indescribable. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen when people of color would be put on trial. So far, he hadn't seen those cases. When it did happen, he was sure the all white Wizengamot wouldn't judge fairly. That's why he needed to work with Kingsley before it happened. Too many people have suffered already. 

 

Harry used the Belfer’s floo (the investigative team had cleared it) to go to the Ministry. When he stepped out of the fireplace, he immediately set to work. He needed to find everything he could on Thomas Leroy. Hopefully, someone was keeping tabs on him and knows his location. After looking through the records they had on hand, Harry discovered Leroy was last seen in Diagon Alley three weeks ago. There was no current address on file. Harry sighed. It looked like this case wouldn’t be as easy as he thought it would be. He took a file and filled it out quickly - a request for information from the evidence chambers downstairs. 

 

Once that was finished, he wrote an office memo to Kingsley. The sooner he could see him, the better. Soon, he got a memo flying back. It said that he was currently busy, but they could meet on Friday to talk. He understood the vitality of time and wanted to meet as soon as possible. The problem was he had many appointments he needed to make this week. Harry understood and quickly sent a memo back saying Friday was fine. 

 

As the day went on, Harry worked on paperwork. Surprisingly, there was a lot of writing and reading involved in being an auror. Not only did he have to write reports after each case closed, but he needed to do weekly evaluations on himself and others he worked with. On top of that, he occasionally needed to write up procedures and advice for incoming training aurors. Suffice to say, if he put it off because he was working in the field or he just didn’t feel like doing it, it stacked up quickly. Today was an example of that. Without thinking, Harry had spent too much time in the courtrooms last week. He came back to a large stack of papers sitting on his desk. It was leaning precariously and Harry was sure the only thing keeping it from toppling was a strong sticking charm. That theory was proven when Harry grabbed the paper on top and the papers fell to the floor. With a wave of his hand, the papers rearranged themselves in a stack on the desk. This stack was neater and didn’t require any charms to keep it standing. Then, he got to work. 

 

Today, he worked on the pile as he waited for more information for his case. There were a few things that were overdue, so he worked on those first. By lunch, he had made a significant difference to the pile. Instead of towering over his head as he sat, it came up to his chest. To other aurors, it wouldn’t have been counted as a success. But to Harry, it was very productive. As Harry put on his coat, he wondered if he could coerce Hermione to help him over lunch. 

 

Hermione worked in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. She hated it. Constantly, she had to erase memories of muggles. It not only reminded her of bad memories, but it made her feel dirty. The idea of being in the mind of a complete stranger and then rearranging their memories set her teeth on edge. Harry understood. He would forever be grateful that aurors didn’t need to handle the memories of muggles. They always called on Hermione’s department to take care of that. 

 

The one good thing about Hermione working there, however, was that she and Harry could have lunch together most days. It was a great time to catch up and talk. Harry found it to be a relaxing experience to unwind with her. 

 

With these thoughts in mind, he made his way out of the Ministry. He and Hermione usually met at a small muggle cafe down the street over from the Ministry. When he walked in, he saw that Hermione was already sitting at their usual table. She was reading, as usual. Wearing a knowing smile, Harry walked up to join her. 

 

“Hey,” he announced himself as he sat down. 

 

She put her book down and said, “Hi Harry. I heard you got a new case.” Harry rolled his eyes; everyone was always keeping tabs on Harry because of his “celebrity” status. Every time he had news, all of his friends would already know. 

 

“Yeah, it’s a simple one. Nothing too interesting. What about you? Did you get to write any essays?” Harry asked. 

 

“Not yet. Poppit only gives them to experienced workers,” she sighed with air quotes around ‘experienced.’ Harry gave her a sympathetic smile. 

 

“That’s too bad,” Harry said as he patted Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione gave him a small smile. Then, her eyes lit up with a new fire. Harry knew that look - Hermione had an idea. 

 

“I was actually thinking…” she trailed off. She bit her lip and only continued when Harry nodded encouragingly at her. “I want to go back to finish my schooling.” 

 

Before Harry could respond, a waiter came up to them. Upon inspection, Harry could remember him as the waiter they had the last few times they came here. According to his name tag, he was Chad. He was carrying two drinks: a coke for Harry and a water for Hermione.  _ Are we really that predictable? _ Harry thought to himself. 

 

Chad set their drinks down and said, “Let me guess: a pistachio wild rice salad and a double cheeseburger with no onions.” At Harry and Hermione’s nod, he hurried away to fill out their usual order. Harry watched him as he walked away. 

 

“You have a chance. He memorized our orders too soon not to be attracted to at least one of us,” Hermione said. 

 

Harry spluttered, “I’m not looking for a chance!” Hermione just gave a smile as an answer.

 

“Anyways,” Harry changed the subject. “You want to go back to Hogwarts?”

 

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about what I want to do. I can’t keep this job forever; I can’t stand it. After some research, I think I want to become a healer,” Hermione said all in one breath. There was an excited glow surrounding her that Harry hadn’t seen in a long time. 

 

“That’s a great idea, Hermione. Have you told Ron yet?” he asked. 

 

Hermione shook her head and answered, “Not yet. I’m going to talk to him tonight.” Their conversation was once again interrupted by Chad - this time bearing food. When everything was settled, he turned to Harry. 

 

“Anything else you need?” he asked. Harry blushed and mumbled something like a ‘No thank you,’ before Chad walked off again. This time when Harry watched him walk away, he turned back and gave Harry a wink. 

 

“Would you like me to leave?” Hermione teased. 

 

“No! There’s nothing going on,” Harry denied. 

 

“From where I’m sitting, it looks like you two were really hitting it off,” Hermione said. Harry groaned and put his head in his hands. 

 

“I just got out of a relationship, Hermione. I’m not looking for anything right now,” Harry said. 

 

Hermione thought for a moment before replying, “You got into that relationship not even a month after you and Ginny broke up.”

 

“That’s completely besides the point. First off, Ginny and I were apart for a whole year before we broke up. Secondly, Ginny started dating Luna about two months after we broke up. Third of all, that was a bad example because my last relationship didn’t go all that well,” Harry rambled. 

 

“It didn’t end well because he was a arsehole. Not because you started the relationship too soon,” Hermione said. His last relationship was with a man named Alexander. He was a few years older than Harry and very attractive. After the Daily Prophet got some pictures of them together a few months in, Harry learned a terrible truth. It turned out Alexander had a fiancee - a female fiancee - and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a relationship with the chosen one. It had stung and Harry decided to take a break from relationships for a while. 

 

“I know. I don’t have time for a relationship right now, anyways. It’s just nice to know that I could get someone if I wanted to,” Harry said, referencing Chad. 

 

“He seems to really like you. You shouldn’t give him false hope,” Hermione warned. 

 

“It’s just flirting, ‘Mione. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a boyfriend,” Harry said, then added bitterly, “Or a fiance.” Hermione gave him a smile, before mercifully changing the subject. Harry half-listened as she went over all the requirements she needed to become a healer. It was nice to see her moving on to something she so thoroughly enjoyed. Now all Harry had to do was follow suit. 

  
  
  


Hours later, Harry was flooing back home. He ended up staying later at the office than he meant to. His back and legs were sore from spending so much time at his desk. When he walked into the living room, he realized the house was eerily silent. Slowly, he crept further up the stairs to the floor where his and Malfoy’s rooms were located. When he was at Malfoy’s door, he knocked tentatively. 

 

Malfoy didn’t say anything so Harry called, “Malfoy?”

 

“Go away,” Malfoy answered through the door. Harry rolled his eyes - Malfoy was still as difficult as ever. 

 

“Have you eaten?” Harry asked. No answer. “You know if you keep ignoring me, I’m going to have to come in there.” Harry heard a curse and some heavy footsteps before the door was thrown open. He was greeted with an irritated blonde who looked to be suppressing an eyeroll. 

 

“There he is!” Harry exclaimed. Then, Malfoy  _ did _ roll his eyes. Harry looked him up and down, studying his features. He was incredibly skinny, but Harry figured that was a result of the war and how people of the “light” side treated him since then while he was in custody. Thankfully, the dementors never came back from during the war, so Malfoy didn’t have to deal with them. There was also bags underneath Malfoy’s eyes, which again was unsurprising. Harry set out to make sure Malfoy got back to his healthy self. 

 

“What do you want Potter?” Malfoy huffed. 

 

Harry rubbed the back of his head and said, “Are you hungry? I can make something for the both of us…” Malfoy blinked at him. “How about spaghetti and meatballs?”

 

“I don’t eat meat,” Malfoy mumbled. 

 

“Oh. I can do that. Hermione doesn’t eat meat either,” Harry said. Malfoy looked blankly at him. Harry stared back. 

 

After a moment, Harry grabbed Malfoy’s wrist and said, “Come on.” Malfoy hissed and yanked his hand back. They stared at each other for a few seconds. 

 

“What was that?” Harry asked. Malfoy gave a look that said, ‘What was what?’ so Harry added, “Your arm, is it hurt?” All he got in response was a shrug. Harry grabbed his wrist again, this time more gently. Malfoy resisted slightly at first but gave up when he realized Harry wouldn’t let this go. Slowly, he rolled Malfoy’s sleeve upwards to reveal a nasty purple bruise. A surge of anger ran through Harry’s veins. 

 

“Who did this?” harry asked with a clenched jaw. 

 

Malfoy jerked his arm away and said, “It doesn’t matter.” Harry took a few deep breaths to steady his voice. 

 

“Of course it fucking matters, Malfoy. They-they hurt you. You don’t-” Harry stopped with a frustrated breath. 

 

“This doesn’t concern you, Potter,” Malfoy said, but his voice didn’t come out as icy as he had meant it to. He was growing tired of this facade. 

 

“Who. Did. This.” Harry said. There was a growing sense of anger. Whoever did this to Malfoy was definitely going to see his fury. 

 

“Everyone did it! What delusional prickhead would think they wouldn’t beat me to a pulp every chance they got? I’m a death eater if you don’t remember,” Malfoy spit out. It seemed every shred of patience he was clinging to was now gone. Harry stared at him silently for a couple of minutes. 

 

“Well, I will see to it that everyone is fired, then,” Harry said resolutely. Malfoy opened his mouth to protest, but Harry held a hand up to silence him. “Let me heal them.  _ All  _ of them.” 

 

Harry could tell that Malfoy wanted to protest, but he held his tongue. Harry’s look of pure determination pushed him to pull up his sleeves. Immediately, Harry set to work. Soon, Malfoy’s arm was back to being pale and clear, not counting the scars Harry assumed were from the war. He could have sworn he saw a couple letters of a word, ‘RY’ but before he could investigate further, Malfoy swiped his sleeve down. 

 

Harry cleared his throat and asked, “What about your chest?”

 

“I’m not taking off my shirt,” Malfoy said with narrow eyes. Harry thought for a moment. 

 

“Here, take this,” Harry said. He was holding out his wand to Malfoy, who was staring at it in shock. 

 

“What?” Malfoy nearly whispered. 

 

“Use this to heal them yourself. I’ll give you some privacy,” Harry said as he started to back away to his room. Malfoy followed him with his eyes, his face full of surprise. 

 

As soon as Harry closed his bedroom door, he let out an irritated sigh. The first thing he was going to do tomorrow was stop by the Minister’s office. This needed to be taken care of  _ now _ .  The fact that people were getting away with beating the prisoners was ridiculous. 

 

A few seconds later, Harry heard a hesitant voice, “Potter?” He took a deep breath and opened the door with a tight smile. 

 

“All right?” Harry asked. In answer, Malfoy shrugged. Harry held his hand out and Malfoy placed the wand in it gingerly. 

 

“So… dinner?” Harry asked. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had this beta'ed but I wanted to look for another beta to look over it after my first beta edits it. Just to make sure the both of us didn't miss anything. So if you're interested in that, email me at: drarryandjohnlock@gmail.com or message me on Instagram @mr.dracopotter . 
> 
> I will try to post updates every week but I can't make any promises because school and family has me very busy. 
> 
> Anyways, if you liked it leave me kudos and comments. They're a huge inspiration to me.


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